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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423850">the name Icarus suits you so much better (so please don't follow his fate)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelibraryofalexandria/pseuds/thelibraryofalexandria'>thelibraryofalexandria</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(They aren't super heavy but they deserve the tag), Angst with a Happy Ending, Big Brother Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, Other, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Post-exile fic, Ram Hybrid Toby Smith | Tubbo, TW: suicidal thoughts, TommyInnit Has Wings, TommyInnit-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:55:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,824</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29423850</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelibraryofalexandria/pseuds/thelibraryofalexandria</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tommy was born with wings. Marvelous white wings, growing to stretch to an amazing length and shining as bright as the sun. As time passed on, they only became more and more impressive, proving to be helpful during the war as a means of lookout, and even more as a symbol of protection for the people of L’manberg. It seemed as if nothing could force him down.</p><p>At least, that’s how it seemed.</p><p>OR</p><p>Classic post-exile fic, except now with Avian Hybrid Tommy and Protective Big Brother Techno!</p><p>(...Yeah this one's real self indulgent)</p><p>(P.S. This fic is purely about their personas on the Dream SMP, and has nothing to do with the people themselves. If any cc's are uncomfortable with this, I'll take it down immediately as to respect their wishes. I also ask that you please don't share this fic with any of the cc's mentioned in the story.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Technoblade &amp; TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), TommyInnit &amp; Phil Watson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>855</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It's never my time (and thank God for that)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy was born with wings. Marvelous white wings, stretching to an amazing length and shining as bright as the sun. A complete opposite to Phil’s raven, you could always tell which parts of the house each of them frequented, from the midnight-black pile behind the comfiest chair in the library to the blinding white ones strewn around the living room. Tommy used to pick up the bigger feathers and hand them to the members of his family, explaining that “If you hold onto those, you’ll always have a part of me around!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Even after the falling outs between their family, Phil and Techno still held onto theirs, hiding them deep in their storage room’s for no one to see. Wilbur kept his in the breast pocket of his uniform, often pulling them out in front of everyone to make fun of Tommy’s childish notions, but everyone assumed they were destroyed in the blast.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The small wooden box buried 6 blocks underneath Wilbur’s gravestone begged to differ.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As time passed on, they only became more and more impressive, proving to be helpful during the war as a means of lookout, and even more as a symbol of protection for the people of L’manberg. It seemed as if nothing could force him down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>At least, that’s how it seemed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Exile was not kind to Tommy, but least of all to his wings. With all the stress of learning to live without his friends (Without </span>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo</span>
  </em>
  <span>, his best friend, the one who had exiled him-), as well as Dream’s daily visits to get rid of his armor and resources, they quickly began to fall out of their usually pristine condition, with Tommy not bothering to clean them off or properly preen them. When he finally brought it up to Dream (his best friend, his </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> friend, the only one who cared about him-), he just laughed it off.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon Tommy, do you really think your wings deserve to look nice?” he scoffed, circling the boy and plucking off a feather with disdain. “That’s a luxury. You’re still in exile, remember?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(That day, Dream set a corner of the Tnret on fire. Tommy lay awake, a freezing chill settling into his bones, and never asked again.) </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The worst part was when Dream found out about his secret stash. He stared at the shoddily-crafted chests, rifling through them with a bored look. Tommy stood by, thoughts racing by about what Dream would do or say, but his reaction was nothing like what he’d imagined. Perhaps that made it worse.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He didn’t scream or yell, just silently placed the TNT and lit it, burning his home to the ground and leaving only craters behind. When the final blast knocked Tommy to the ground, Dream shifted his gaze from the remains, the beady dots of his mask locking on to the teenager. Tommy felt as if he was staring an Enderman in the face, unable to move no matter how hard he tried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream walked over to the grounded avian, stopping once he stood over his left wing. Tommy’s mouth was dry, and though he already knew what was coming, he tried one last time to find the humanity within the other man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“P-p-,” he whispered, his pride making one last attempt to push the words back down his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“P-please, Dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Just for a moment, Dream stopped. Tommy’s heart leapt up, as if trying to escape his chest. He lifted his mask ever so slightly, showing chapped lips. They moved down into a frown, but then back up into a wide, wide grin. His heart sank back down once more, anchoring him to the floor.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Tommy. This is just what you deserve. No hard feelings, right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream raised his boot directly over Tommy’s radius and </span>
  <em>
    <span>stomped.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His scream echoed around the ruins of Logstedshire, continuing long after Dream left. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy lay on the ground for a long time. For once in his life, he was completely quiet. The pain was overwhelming, covering all of his senses with a layer of nails and broken glass.  After a while, he pulled himself up, wincing as his wings fell limply and dragged across the debris. He trudged up to the top of the hill and slowly started to tower.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he finally reached the clouds, the air thinning out to a point where it took all of his energy to just breathe, he stared down at the ground with a longing gaze. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You could free yourself.” </span>
  </em>
  <span>the voice in his ear whispered. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Fly one more time.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It seemed so appealing. He leaned over the edge of the pillar, lifting his arms high. He lifted one foot, shuffling off the edge, when suddenly, something started shifting before him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Memories came flooding around- of the fun times spent in L’manburg, of fighting in the war and defending the caravan, of spending days exploring the fields surrounding Phil’s home with Wilbur and Techno. </span>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Huh,”</span> <span>he wondered aloud, watching as a memory of watching Niki bake flew by. “When they said that your life flashes by your eyes before you die, I didn’t realize it would be this literal.”</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The memories all started to join together, shrinking and growing in front of him to form a large statement, written out in the air like a massive constellation. Tommy stared and stared, before finally breaking out into laughter. He shook manically, a slight feeling of insanity bleeding into his mind. Those words, the ones that had caused him so much suffering and agony, would now be the thing that convinced him to carry on. It almost seemed like a huge joke.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“It’s not your time yet.”</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Turning away from the words, he sighed, looking down at the small, distant pond.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Seems like taking his final flight would have to wait.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. when did I become an only child?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> One Month Later... </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Tommy slid down the rickety ladder into the Dnret, tripping on the last rung. Stumbling onto the floor next to his bed, he winced as he hit the bedframe on the way down. His torso felt like it was on fire, despite having been out in the freezing tundra for so long, and when he pulled his hand away to rifle around in his chest, it was covered in blood. His wings throbbed with pain, still not fully healed from when Dream… from when Logstedshire had been blown up.  </p><p> </p><p>He finally reached the bottom of his chest, cursing as he realized he didn’t have any healing pots or bandages left.</p><p> </p><p>“Dammit Tommy, why’d you have to try and go for that iron?” he hissed through his teeth, rolling onto his back and reaching over to the single sheet he’d stolen from Techno a while back. Pressing it onto the wound, he winced as the fabric bloomed a crimson red.</p><p> </p><p>Since he’d gotten to Techno’s house, he’d barely slept. Staying awake for long periods of the night, he’d memorized his <strike>brother's </strike>former brother’s schedule and learned to be completely silent when climbing out. Using the last scraps of leather he had, he’d bound his wings to his back in a makeshift attempt at a splint. They ached and ached, but with them strapped in Tommy could move around without dragging them on the floor. He was a shadow of the person he used to be, silent and unmoving. Even if Techno did see him, he doubted he would recognize him before slaughtering the intruder in his house, but as far as he knew Techno had no idea there was anyone there.</p><p> </p><p>(It was one of the only things he had left to be proud of, which, in retrospect, was kind of depressing.) </p><p> </p><p>A sharp pain hit again. He cursed, pressing the fabric harder. He had been fairly careful for the past few weeks, getting back long before the cutoff and barely moving in his little hovel, afraid of being heard, but this trip he’d seen some iron in an open cave and felt a bit of that past Tommy return to him.</p><p> </p><p>Leaping onto the stone floor, he whipped out his stolen pickaxe and started chipping away at the ore, already excited at the premise of having better tools or armor. In his excitement, he didn’t realize the shadowy figure creeping out of the dark side of the tunnel.</p><p> </p><p>He lifted his head to wipe some sweat off of his brow, and was immediately met with a sharp pain in his throat. A skeletal hand reached back in, heavily bruising the top layer of skin. Tommy winced, slapping a hand over his mouth to muffle his scream. He scrambled back up, running towards the cabin in a frenzied panic. In his haze, he realized that he was no longer holding the pickaxe.</p><p> </p><p>Looking down at his stomach and seeing the tool poking out, he hummed to himself in surprise.</p><p> </p><p>“Ohhhh. That makes sense.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>It all went by in a blur after that, and soon he was back on the cold floor of his new home. Black sat at the edge of his vision, not leaving but also not advancing further.</p><p> </p><p>“Heh,” he mumbled to himself. “Seems like even Death is afraid to come get me at this point.”</p><p> </p><p>It creeped in a tiny bit more. He succumbed to the urge to shut his eyes, listening to the heavy tapping coming from above the ceiling, presumably made by one of the mobs.. Everything, for once, seemed peaceful. He could feel it- no matter how hard he tried to hang on, the overwhelming feeling of calm washed over him.</p><p> </p><p>“RAAAAA<strong>AAGHHHHHHH!”</strong></p><p> </p><p>His eyes snapped open once again. He came to two terrible realizations.</p><p> </p><p>1: The tapping was just <em> slightly  </em>too loud to be Henry or one of the dogs.</p><p> </p><p>2: In his haste, he’d forgotten to block off the entryway to the Dnret.</p><p> </p><p>A heavy boot came into view, settling against the second rung of the ladder. Tommy gulped, flashbacks of his last encounter with Dream resurfacing.</p><p> </p><p>Technoblade was home, and he was not happy.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Techno’s POV:</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Techno leaned forward slightly, exhausted and pained. He had just returned from L’manberg, a truce made and a house arrest put on hold for- for Tommy’s funeral.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tommy was dead. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A few days prior, Techno had heard a knock at his door. He’d opened it, expecting it to be Phil, but the sight made him pull his sword from his halter.</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo stood there in a rumpled suit, his eyes puffy and defeated. He promised Techno that he wished him no harm, and only wanted to talk. Techno was reluctant, but the voices all seemed to be in agreeance for once, so he let him in. They settled on the couches, but the Piglin hybrid was quick to cut to the point.</p><p> </p><p>“So,” he said, making his voice rougher in an attempt to sound more intimidating. “Why are you here?”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo showed no reaction. He sucked in a deep breath, and started talking.</p><p> </p><p>“I went to Logstedshire to visit Tommy. I just needed some advice, and he’s always been there for me no matter wha-”</p><p> </p><p>“Oi.” Techno interrupted, not wanting to listen to the boy rambling. “Get on with it.”</p><p> </p><p>“When I got there, he- he wasn’t there. Nothing was there.”</p><p> </p><p>Techno’s brow furrowed. Even he knew that the little gremlin wasn’t allowed anywhere other than the tiny log-town.</p><p> </p><p>“What’dya mean?”</p><p> </p><p>The teen placed his head in his hands, staring down at the floor. A single drop of water hit the carpet, and Techno’s blood ran cold. The voices started freaking out.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Technoworry </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Why is he crying, we can’t deal with that </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tubbosad </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> ...MissingInnit? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> DEADINNIT- </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“Tubbo.” he stood up from his chair, towering over the young president. “What do you mean by ‘there was nothing there?”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo choked out a sob, more droplets falling.</p><p> </p><p>“It-it was all on fire,” he shut his eyes, trying to wipe the image from his mind. “And-and-”</p><p> </p><p>He took another deep breath. Techno’s heart raced.</p><p> </p><p>“There was a cobblestone pillar.”</p><p> </p><p>He stumbled back, falling into his chair. It was as if a bucket of icy water had been dumped on him. He zeroed in on Tubbo’s whimpers, reminding himself that someone else was there. Slowly but surely, he lifted a gloved hand, reaching over and placing it on the other’s back. Tubbo gasped, having been lifted out of his misery, but he quickly adjusted and started trying to wipe away the tears. Techno spoke up, voice raspy and barely audible, but everything he was trying to convey came out in a single sentence.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m- I’m sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>Tubbo looked over at him, with what was probably meant to be a comforting smile coming out as a pained grimace. They shared a moment of complete understanding.</p><p> </p><p>“So am I.”</p><p> </p><p>Later on, Techno got up and made him some tea. They sat at the table and sipped it, with Tubbo telling Techno about what was happening next.</p><p> </p><p>(“Phil’s getting a temporary release.” Tubbo whispered from across the table. “The first time going out in ages, and it’s for his son’s funeral.”</p><p> </p><p>That wasn’t the truth, and both of them knew it, but Techno had a feeling Tubbo wasn’t going to object to Phil’s visits now.)</p><p> </p><p>He made up the spare room for Tubbo, methodically neatening up the room and straightening the bed. He hesitated for a moment, before running up to his storage room and reaching into an old corner in the chest labeled “Childhood.”</p><p> </p><p>When Tubbo went to sleep that night, there was a red bandana laying across the pillow. He didn’t say a word about it, but that night Techno heard muffled wails coming from the room.</p><p> </p><p>The next morning, Tubbo exited the room wearing the bandana. He thanked Techno for letting him stay, and they quickly ate and prepared supplies before heading off to L’manberg.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Arriving in the independent country was… interesting, to say the least. Many people stared on, pity evident in their expressions. To see Technoblade, the Blood God himself, being led through the streets he once set alight with his head down should have felt victorious for the people of L’manburg, but all they did was shake their head and look away. </p><p> </p><p>Tubbo took him all the way to Phil’s house, but took a step back when he saw the winged father already standing on his porch, surrounded by Quackity and Fundy. As he prepared to leap down, Quackity went to reach for him, before coming on the receiving end of three death glares. As he slowly took his hand back, Phil jumped down the slope, running towards his son and enveloping him in a hug. They stood there for what felt like forever, before Phil grabbed Techno’s hand and pulled him into his home. As the door closed, Techno saw Tubbo nod at him, beckoning Quackity and Fundy over. He looked back at his dad, moving on autopilot to sit next to him. He lay his head on Phil’s shoulder, and watched the burning log-fire jump around and play.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Tommy was like fire </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dadza Dadza Dadza </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Technohug </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> All of y’all seriously need to quiet down, give him some space </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, they listened, volume depleting to a whisper. Techno realized his father had been talking, and struggled to tune back in.</p><p> </p><p>“-He- he was so young, Techno. So full of life.” Phil’s voice and tone had so many emotions hidden within it- Sadness, anger, shock- but most of all, tiredness. “And he’s gone, just like that.”</p><p> </p><p>Phil threw an arm around Techno, cocooning the both of them in his wings. He placed his chin on his middle son’s head, holding him close.</p><p> </p><p>“I was once the father of three living sons.” his voice cracked halfway through, but he continued.</p><p> </p><p>“And now I have a mere shell of what my oldest once was, and my youngest choosing death over spending one more day with us.”</p><p> </p><p>He looked down at Techno with a pained smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Promise me Techno, that I won’t live to attend your funeral.”</p><p> </p><p>The worst part was that he couldn’t. Instead, he tucked himself back into his dad’s side and, for the first time since finding out the news, weeped.</p><p> </p><p>Fundy, already halfway down the road, could hear him. He turned back towards the house, hearing another faint heartbreaking cry. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he stiffened up, before looking down to see Tubbo next to him. He grabbed his other shoulder, pulling him down into a 5-second hug. He then pushed Fundy back up, straightening his chestplate out and patting him on the back. They both caught up to Quackity, who was eerily silent, and continued down the street.</p><p> </p><p>The next day, Techno and Phil appeared at the funeral in their full Antarctic Empire gear, but no one said anything. After Tubbo’s eulogy, everyone’s eyes were so blurry with tears that no one could see them anyways. They buried an empty casket, next to a gravestone Techno was sure Tommy would’ve hated.</p><p> </p><p>“TommyInnit, gone too soon.</p><p> </p><p>A loved son, brother, uncle, and soldier.</p><p> </p><p>He will be missed.”</p><p> </p><p>The three lines didn’t represent Tommy at all. One day, in the near future, Techno would come back and replace it with something bigger and tackier.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> (“My grave’s gonna be giant,” a young Tommy had yelled from his place on Techno’s shoulder. “With all my achievements and shit on it. Can you do that for me, Blade?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Dumb gremlin, by the time you’re dead I’ll be as well.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “Oh, good point.” he mumbled, clearly trying to rethink his idea. “Eh, I’ll write it down somewhere. After all-” he nudged his older brother, a smug grin spreading wide across his face. “You love me too much to let me die before you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Even though Techno had spent the rest of the day terrifying Tommy, swinging his wooden practise sword around, he never once denied that claim. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How disappointed would young Techno be in him now?) </em>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>Techno trudged through the icy snow, Phil on Carl walking behind him. Once the funeral was over, Phil had announced that he was leaving with Techno for a short while. Quackity had once again tried to object, but Tubbo literally pulled him back into his seat, only telling Phil to “enjoy his time away.”</p><p> </p><p>(That kid really wasn’t doing well.)</p><p> </p><p>As they reached the end of the forest, approaching the snowy clearing in which Techno lived, he suddenly remembered something he had to tell Phil about.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, Phil,” he spun around, looking into his father’s eyes for the first time since they’d reached the forest. “I do have to warn you- there’s a thief in my house.”</p><p> </p><p>Phil’s eyebrows shot up. “And you just- left them there?”</p><p> </p><p>Techno shrugged. “I’ve been trying to smoke them out, but they’re being persistent. I can always confront them later.”</p><p> </p><p>His dad chuckled, brushing aside the leafy fern with his wings. “You’ve never been one to play the waiting game Techno, what changed-”</p><p> </p><p>He stopped mid-sentence, eyes raking over the clearing with a constantly changing expression. That wasn’t a good sign. Maybe there was a dead animal out there? Techno slid under Phil, looking over the terrain.</p><p> </p><p>It was <em> not </em> what he was expecting.</p><p> </p><p>There was a bloody trail leading into his house from the west side. It seemed to originate from one point- maybe an item? Techno squinted, and finally found the start of the trail. Sitting on the blanket of white was something that was very clearly not snow, and Phil and Techno looked at each other once before rushing over to see. </p><p> </p><p>From a distance, it seemed as if there was only one thing there. A blunt stone pickaxe lay there almost unnoticeable, even with the layer of- unfortunately, dried- blood covering an edge. Techno reached down to pick it up, inspecting it.</p><p> </p><p>“Not in a very good state, could be an old one the animals dragged out.” he hummed, flipping it over. Phil looked on from over his shoulder, squinting at the pile, before going fully pale.</p><p> </p><p>He pushed past Techno, falling to his knees in front of the bloodstained ground. Techno went to grab his arm, but Phil wrenched it away, frantically grabbing at the snow. Finally pulling out what he was looking for, he sifted the snow off his palm so Techno could see the item more carefully.</p><p> </p><p>In his palm was a single, bloodied white feather.</p><p> </p><p>(As far as Techno knew, there was only one source of white feathers in these parts: the small stash of baby feathers at the bottom of his childhood chest.)</p><p> </p><p>Techno saw <em> red. </em></p><p> </p><p>He started storming towards the cabin, all logic and empathy gone. The thief had gone too far this time and by the Blood God himself, they would <em> pay. </em></p><p> </p><p>(Had he been thinking more logically, he would’ve noticed that the feather was much too large and fresh to be one of his own.</p><p> </p><p>Had he been thinking more logically, he would’ve brought Phil inside first instead of leaving him there to freeze in his shock.)</p><p> </p><p>He kicked the door open, noticing the bloody trail led down into his basement. He saw another feather on the floor, letting out a guttural scream. He followed the trail, voices screaming for vengeance.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> KILL THEM </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> MURDER THE INTRUDER </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He slid down the ladder, noticing the extra opening at the bottom and the sudden shuffling coming from underneath.</p><p> </p><p>Sliding down the second ladders, he turned around and snarled, deep and full of rage.</p><p> </p><p>“How <b><em>dare you-”</em></b> he bellowed out, pulling out his sword, ready to fight.</p><p> </p><p>One look at what was there, and he dropped it. His jaw went slack, and he took a step back in complete surprise.</p><p> </p><p>Sitting in the corner of the shitty house, huddled into a red sheet, dirty and greasy and eyes full of dread and fear but <em> full </em>nonetheless, was his little brother.</p><p> </p><p>He looked terrible. His usually fluffy blonde hair was a stringy mess, and his cheeks were sunken in and hollow. His trademark red t-shirt was stained with dirt and blood, though it was half-covered with Wilbur’s Pogtopia coat- but even from his distance, Techno could tell that it was definitely bloodier than normal . And his wings- <em> his wings, once giant and magnificent, gleaming and bright- </em> were twisted and caked in mud, bound to his back with a tattered leather belt. He was curled over himself, taking up what seemed to be the only free space in the tiny hovel.</p><p> </p><p>Tommy looked up at him, terror and fear hidden behind a flimsy expression of confidence.</p><p> </p><p>“W-what’s up, bitch?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>...yeah, this one's a little bit more angsty</p><p>(Fun fact: I had a full outline planned out down to the changes of scene, but this was the chapter that threw it off completely. Tommy's suffering was going to be a part of chapter one, and this chapter was supposed to end at the funeral, but my brain went "NOPE, COMBINE THEM." so y'all get an extra-long chapter.)</p><p>Don't worry, next chapter will be out very soon! Comments and kudos are a big part of my motivation, so if you have the time please keep them rolling and I'll keep up the consistent updates!</p><p>Until next time, thanks for reading y'all :)</p><p>-Quills (Alexandria)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I would kill for you (but first you must live)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Techno stared on with pure, unfiltered shock. His ire had slightly dissolved at the sight of his brother, but the voices had gotten louder than ever.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait, he’s alive?</span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>
      <br/>
    </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>ALIVEINNIT</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...Has he just been under the basement this whole time?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>why are his hands red </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>WHO HURT HIM</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>TECHNOPAIN-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p><span>“Shut </span><b>UP!” </b><span>he screamed, backing up again and feeling his back hit the ladder. Tommy flinched, moving further into the corner.</span> <span>A waterfall of words spilled out of the young boy's mouth.</span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, I’m sorry- everything’s in the chest, you can take everything, just please- please don’t hurt me.” he cried out, shuffling closer into himself. Techno watched him with lidded eyes, half-concerned and half-in denial.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His silence only scared Tommy further. His eyes seemed to glaze over, and he crawled out of  his corner and started… digging a hole with his hands?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He continued to dig, even after his palms started to bleed and his nails broke. It was at this point that Techno sprung into action. Real or not, he needed to help now. Falling to his knees, he stumbled over to Tommy and grabbed his hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His </span>
  <em>
    <span>bloody</span>
  </em>
  <span> hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>why are his hands bloody</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>HurtInnit</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Technoheal</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>help him</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, calm down,” he murmured, making his voice as soft and comforting as possible. “What-why- how are you here? Why are you doing this?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy stared at his hands before wrenching them away, crawling past Techno and reaching into his chest. He pulled out a battered pickaxe handle and a few golden apples, rolling them into the hole and shying away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno watched in confusion, not moving any closer to his brother. Tommy sat there for a moment, before peeking out from behind his arm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t draw this out.” he mumbled, voice broken and raspy. “Just blow it up and get it over with.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, it all became clear. Techno saw red again, but for a different reason.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He gritted his teeth. His voice was gravelly and restrained.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Someone has been blowing up your stuff?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy lowered his arm hesitantly, eyes still glazed and unfocused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have, Dream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh. That answered that question.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno was </span>
  <em>
    <span>pissed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Dream, the self-proclaimed “God” of the SMP, had been torturing his little brother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The voices </span>
  <em>
    <span>screamed</span>
  </em>
  <span> for retribution. They had never been louder. He felt as if he was underwater, the shrieks of the angered bubbling around him, but as he felt himself drown he realized there was a scream coming from somewhere else… somewhere closer to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His head snapped to the side, and he saw Tommy a distance away from him in the same predicament. He took a deep breath, reminding himself that he had to stay calm for the younger boy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(Calm before he </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking ripped Dream’s throat out-)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dream? Are you still there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno looked over at his younger brother, heart-breaking at the sight. He tiptoed over to Tommy, hands out in front of him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, gremlin, it’s ‘Blade. You ok?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked up at him, confused and afraid.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, but- where did Dream go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Dream’s not here, little one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But-” he started to hyperventilate, and Techno squashed the feeling to go scoop up the boy. Instead, he went a step closer, trying to get Tommy’s attention. He flinched back, curling further in on himself. “-He- he said he’d never leave me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He- he said he’d never go. That he’d always stay, how could he go-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, Tommy, look at me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They met eyes, and Tommy’s breathing slowed down just a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That’s good, just follow my breathing. In for four-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A deep inhale.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold for seven-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A brief silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Out for eight.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A small woosh. Tommy’s glance seemed to come clear, and he finally seemed to notice Techno.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Blade?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno sighed, a wave of relief flowing over him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah Theseus, it’s me. Do you think I can take you upstairs?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy looked up, confused. Techno started to become more worried, about to ask again, before the edge of Tommy’s lips quirked up, and his next sentence had a fraction of his usual snark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You think I can’t get up there myself? I’ve been doing it pretty well for the last month.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(A month? His little brother had been hiding a block underneath his base for a month and he’d never known?)</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno pushed that thought away for now, instead choosing to roll his eyes. “You didn’t do as well of a job as you thought, considering I was completely aware there was a thief here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A flash of fear went through Tommy’s eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a pout.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really? Come on! I was sneaky and everythi- Oof.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>In the middle of his sentence, Techno had walked over and picked up his brother. He went stiff, before relaxing slightly, still on guard. Wrapping his arms around his brother’s neck, he rested his head on Techno’s soft, velvety cape. Slowly he continued up the ladder, clinging to his brother as hard as his brother was clinging to him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Thoughts raced through his head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How did he get under here?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What healing supplies do I have?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nevermind supplies, what are his injuries? Can I even fix them?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I- what if I can’t-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He cleared his mind, focusing solely on making his way up to his base. There was only one person who could help him now, and he was in the upper level.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stumbling onto the ground floor </span>
  <em>
    <span>(why couldn’t he have made </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>stairs</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> when he built the house)</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he nearly tripped over the final rung but quickly steadied on his feet. He started moving towards the living room, unconsciously speeding up everytime his brother groaned. Whipping around the corner, he saw his father sitting on the couch, staring down at the feather with a blank expression.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Phil!” he cried out, worry starting to seep out of his words. The avian turned his head slowly, prepared to help his son with whatever was troubling him, when he finally caught a look of what Techno was holding. He shot out of his seat, jaw dropping the exact same way his son's had.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-is that-” His questioning was cut off by a grave nod from Techno. His face lit up, but only for a moment. As he moved closer, he smelt the copper-tang within the air and saw the red stains on the edge of Techno’s sleeve. His gaze steeled, flipping into seriousness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Give him here, and go to your storage room,” he instructed, reaching out to Techno. “Get me bandages, my splinting tape, a needle and thread, antiseptic, and all the health and regen potions you have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno shuffled Tommy’s arms off his neck, heart breaking at his brother's whine. He transferred him into his father’s arms. Tommy’s eyes opened, face reddening as he realised his father was holding him the same way he used to when he was a baby.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Heeeey Phil. How’s it going?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t speak, conserve your energy.” Phil muttered. Tommy tried to protest, before blushing again as Phil shushed him softly. Techno made sure Tommy was comfortable on his carpet before rushing off to his chests. Removing his cape, he held it like a sling as he loaded it with medical supplies. Running back to the other two, being careful not to crack any of the glass bottles, he lay his cape on the floor before stepping back and letting Phil work his magic. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Watching his dad frantically clean his brother’s wounds, he finally had a moment to breath. Placing a hand on the wall, he let out a deep sigh, processing everything that had happened within the last hour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Returning home from his younger brother’s funeral with his dad in tow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finding said brother’s feathers in front of his house, covered in blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Storming into his house in anger, only to find</span>
  <em>
    <span> said brother</span>
  </em>
  <span> in a basement under his basement, </span>
  <em>
    <span>also covered in blood.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Learning about what Dream had done to Tommy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>How he’d </span>
  <b>hurt him, taken away his things, driven him to near-</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“TECHNO!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His vision came back into focus, and he realized that he’d punched a hole into the wall. Tommy looked terrified, while Phil glared with carefully hidden anger.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Take a walk, mate.” he whispered, trying not to talk too loud. The anger was quickly seeping away, leaving only sadness. “I need to work.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The anarchist pig sighed, walking away, stopping at the doorway to look one more time. Tommy had relaxed now, letting Phil clean his torso up. It was a far cry from when Techno had first found him, curled up in a corner, hurt and alone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno would make sure that he never felt that way again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And that started with killing the person who’d caused this.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He slammed his front door open, taking a step outside and sitting in the snow. The icy cold grounded him, bought him both closer to reality and further from everything else. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had an assassination to plan.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>~And so begins the death of a homeless man~</p><p>Seriously though, this chapter was both fun and difficult to write. Unfortunately, the proper comfort in that hurt/comfort tag will have to wait a bit longer, as the next chapter is an interlude (it's the same timeline and universe, just from a different perspective...y'all aren't going to be happy with me)</p><p>Thank you to everyone who has left a comment and kudos so far! I really didn't expect this fic to get that much attention, so seeing how much y'all like it has really boosted my morale. If you have the time, please keep them coming!</p><p>Until next time, I'll see y'all later!</p><p>-Quills (Alexandria)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Tubbo's Interlude</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Tubbo opened the door to his office and collapsed in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Quackity soon followed him, slamming the door open, setting off another headache.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What was that?!” Quackity screamed, starting to pace around Tubbo’s office. Fundy stood outside the office, watching the president with a worried look. Tubbo looked back, trying to portray his assuredness through his eyes, but his vice-president quickly jumped in the way of him with an annoyed expression. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not only did you let in a war criminal who destroyed this country,” he shouted, jabbing his finger in Tubbo’s face. “But you let the other war criminal out! What were you thinking?! How could you have-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“SHUT UP, QUACKITY!”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stopped in his tracks, genuinely surprised by Tubbo’s interruption. The teen glared back intensely, eyes both empty and burning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> (His anger was so similar to his predecessor’s, and yet with such a different source, coming not from alcohol and ruthless ambition but pain and mourning. It made Quackity nervous nonetheless, and he took a step back. Fundy hummed, closing the door. Don’t get him wrong, Quackity deserved this for trying to manipulate the teen and Tubbo deserved his moment of revenge, but the idea of watching a ram hybrid scream at his vice-president was too much right now.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I HAVE SACRIFICED EVERYTHING FOR THIS COUNTRY!” Tubbo screamed, finally acting like the age he was and not an experienced politician running an independent country. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I HAVE GIVEN UP MY TIME-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A step back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“AND MY CHANCE AT HAVING A NORMAL CHILDHOOD-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Hands slammed onto a desk.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I EXILED MY BEST FRIEND FOR THIS COUNTRY, AND NOW HE’S-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His voice cracked, and his head fell into his hands, leaning heavily into them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“N-now he’s- he’s gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He took a deep sigh, straightening up and turning to stare at the large window showing the lawn behind his office.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So forgive me, Vice-President, if I think allowing his brother and father to attend his funeral and then have time to mourn together is “failing my country.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned his head slightly, so only one of his eyes were visible to the other man. His pupils had shrunk significantly, but there were tiny diamonds hidden within the corners.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"At this point, there is nothing in or about L'manburg that is worth making proud."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quackity gulped, staring guiltily down at his feet. All of his subtle prods and points had finally come to a head.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I-I'm just gonna go now."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo turned back to the window, nodding.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Dismissed."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The duck hybrid exited the room, back still to the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When had the fun-loving teenager turned into a depressed tyrant?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>...Had he taken a part in that?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fundy stood outside the door, a disapproving look on his face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You messed up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quackity chuckled.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You think I don't know that?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The chuckle continued for an uncomfortable amount of time, before it slowly evolved into a full-joker laugh, crazed and full of tears. He grabbed his arms, digging his nails into them. The anger in the air was palpable, but even Fundy could tell that Quackity's anger wasn't at him or Tubbo, but at himself. The <strike>furry</strike> fox sighed, reaching down and pulling the other up to lean on his shoulder. He supported him as they limped away from the office, heading towards the outside, when suddenly Quackity went completely silent. They continued for a while, until he finally spoke up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"D-don't you think I'm a bad person?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Stopping right outside the door, Fundy mused over the thought. Finally, he replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quackity laughed once again, though perhaps this time in disbelief.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Really? Even after all that I've done?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He grabbed the other's shoulder, forcing them to look each other in the eye. Again, Fundy replied.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No. Your actions don't define you as a person. Good people do bad things sometimes, it's a part of life."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>More silence. As they headed out the doors and Quackity finally had the strength to stand on his own, Fundy started to walk away, before stopping in his tracks. He adopted the exact same pose Tubbo had earlier, flicking only one eye to the other.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Besides, it's not what I think that matters. Fixing what you've done should be your highest priority."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His eyes roamed for a moment, before finally settling on the part of the building where Tubbo's office lay.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"And believe me- however hard you think it'll be, it's going to be ten times worse. Nothing short of bringing back the dead will cheer him up."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a brief pause, and then Fundy turned back, giving Quackity a half-smile and a shaky goodbye. As the other man walked away, Quackity's mind kept rolling over what his last words were.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Bringing back the dead, huh?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>He questioned to himself, a plan forming in his head. If this was what was needed to bring back the happy-go-lucky boy Tubbo once was… it was possible.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I might not be able to do that."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A treacherous voice whispered from the back of his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"But you know someone who could."</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well," he mused, a naive sense of excitement covering his worry. "Guess it's time to try and find a homeless God."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Back in his office, Tubbo was scrunched into a corner. He took quick, gasping breaths, curling further into himself as negative thoughts attacked him from every angle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You left Tommy to die.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was all alone, and that drove him to suicide.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You exiled him, pushed him into that situation in the first place-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>It’s your fault-</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>
    <em>YOU KILLED HIM-</em>
  </b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tubbo’s scream was strangled, and he desperately clawed at his throat and head, trying to force the voices out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But as they yelled and shrieked in his ears, he slowly started to believe them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so the President of the mighty L’manberg, a soldier who’d fought in the war and won, shifted his head away from the light and fell to the dark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(If you looked closely, you could almost see the outline of a brown coat and stained wings. It was no surprise that the two boys, who had grown up and fought together, would take the exact same position of defence while in a crisis.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a shame that that day, only one of them got help.)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Is this chapter adding unnecessary words to the angst-fuelled fire? ... yes.  Is the way I write Quackity kind of ooc and inconsistent? ...also yes. Am I a Quackity apologist and also someone who wanted to write Tubbo feeling his pain?</p><p>...is it really a question at this point</p><p>Oh, also, quick apology- tomorrow's chapter will be out a bit later as I've got something on at my usual posting time, but rest assured it will be there! We finally get a look at our first Tommy-getting-cared-for interactions!</p><p>(Seriously though, this is a huge thank you to all of my readers, kudoers, and commenters! The outpour of support for this fic has been huge, and I really appreciate it. If you do have the time, please leave a comment or kudos and I'll keep the content coming!)</p><p>Until next time, I'll see y'all later!</p><p>-Quills (Alexandria)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. how old were you when I first failed you?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <b>Phil’s POV:</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Phil stood over his middle son’s kitchen bench, squeezing out the dirt and blood he’d cleaned off of his son’s wings, watching as the sink was dyed red and brown. There had clearly been an abundance of mud wherever Techno had found him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, where did he find him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>After finding that single feather within the snow, he'd literally frozen, blocking out everything around him. Although he was faintly aware of Technoblade's war cry and pursuit into his own house, it didn't matter at that point. All that mattered was the dingy little reminder of Tommy, covered in blood.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Did- could it mean that he was- no, but the tower- Wait, where were the feathers he owned-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He sat in the snow until his lips started to tinge blue. At that feeling, he'd finally headed inside, reaching to take Carl into his stables before realizing that the horse was gone, and there was a suspicious path of hoofprints heading towards the horse's home. Walking through the front door, he'd seen the path of destruction leading into Techno's basement. He’d sighed, feeling bad for the poor thief that had most likely stumbled across the wrong chest and dismissed the white treasures as trash. Nevertheless, he made no move to intervene, heading straight into the living room to sit down.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, he hadn't expected to have to intervene in a different way.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>From the moment he saw Tommy bundled up in Techno's arms, he'd been fully confused.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where did he come from?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How did he get hurt so badly?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Had Techno been- no, but then he wouldn't have cried- so how could he have-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy groaned again from his place across the room, and Phil's fatherly instincts forced him to move. The details and events leading up to now didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was making sure his youngest was okay. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly and carefully, he’d cleaned off his son’s wounds, the fire within him growing at the sight of every cut and bruise. Removing the pickaxe was one of the hardest parts, having to hear his son scream in pain as he removed the crusted blood around the stone tool. Luckily, the healing potions, which usually made someone only a little drowsy, had caused him to pass out. By then, it almost seemed like the worst had passed.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, he wasn’t out of the woods yet.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Having to look at his son’s wings, with memories of teaching Tommy to fly passing by, and knowing that he hadn’t been there for him as they fell into this state of disarray was soul-shattering. Taking extreme care, he gently cleaned and straightened out the worst of Tommy’s feathers, before using the splinting tape to fold the wing into place and hold it there. After making sure that it was all clean (</span>
  <em>
    <span>“Nowhere near what they used to be.”</span>
  </em>
  <span>), he easily lifted the boy into Techno’s guestroom, wrapping him in two extra blankets for warmth. He stopped at the doorframe one last time to make sure his son was sound asleep, before he left to clean up the mess in the lounge. He moved all of the leftover supplies into Techno’s chest, before putting a pot on to boil (Techno would want some tea when he came back in) and moved onto his last task. Turning the rags back to their original beige state left him plenty of time to reflect. The view of Tommy’s crooked and broken feathers replayed every time he closed his eyes, and it probably would continue to until the day he died.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span> How had he changed from the ever-present father who would do anything for his kids to a man who couldn’t even be there to help wash and preen his son’s wings?</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A comforting voice crept into his head, whispering into his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You were on house arrest,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>it muttered, clearly trying to defend his mistakes. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“You couldn’t have done anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It wasn’t your faul-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“NO!” Phil yelled at himself, almost afraid that he would wake Tommy up. Phil nearly didn’t care, angrily muttering at himself. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew he wasn’t doing well in exile, and I never once came to check on him.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But you weren’t allowed to leave L’manber-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“I left L’manberg frequently to go visit Techno!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But Ghostbur was wi-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Why should that have deterred me? He’s my son, my youngest child, and I- I-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I failed him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He slid down to the floor, leaning on the cupboards. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How could I have failed him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He cried silently into his arm, bucket hat sheltering his eyes. Someone shuffled into the room, walking up to stand behind him before lowering a hand onto his shoulder. Techno’s gravelly voice sounded from above him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“...Would tea help?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Phil barked out a short laugh in-between tears, moving to pull himself up. His middle child had never been the best at emotional talks. After his legs had finally stopped shaking and his eyes had stopped leaking, he turned to Techno and smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Yeah it would.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They sat together at the kitchen table, sipping on piping-hot cups of tea. Phil decided it was finally time to ask Techno about where Tommy had come from.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“So, mate.” Phil started, placing his cup down. “...Where do I start?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno took a deep sigh, mirroring his father’s actions. “We should probably start at where I found him.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, that sounds good.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And so, Techno told him everything.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>About how pissed he’d been, about how he’d found Tommy quivering and afraid below his base, about him digging the hole and then finally finding out the cause of his fear.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And by the end, Phil was </span>
  <b>furious.</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was by no means an angry man, and he’d spent a good portion of his life caring for others.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>But as the flowers and crops around the house started to shrink and wither, and as even Techno felt his lungs constrict ever-so-slightly, it was clear to see how a plain human earned the title of the Angel Of Death.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>At that very moment, a million miles away, a shiver ran down a quote-on-quote “God’s” spine.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>His reckoning was scheduled.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Back in the cabin…</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno reached across the table, tapping Phil’s arm. The man shook in his chair, before looking down to see his son. The effect cancelled immediately, and Phil hurriedly pushed his son back into a sitting position. They both took a few breaths, before Phil started speaking once again.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm- I'm sorry."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno looked back up at him, face entirely neutral aside from the glint of understanding in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"It's okay."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"I had the same reaction."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They were both quiet once again, the unspoken question on their minds hanging heavily over the room.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What next?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno gazed at his father, before standing up and beginning to walk out of the room. Phil followed him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Turning a corner, they dove into Techno's library, where there was a book sitting on the small table, clearly just pulled out. The piglin hybrid picked it up, feeling the cover on his fingertips, before slowly handing it over to his father. Phil did the same motion, before turning his gaze back to Techno.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"You're sure?"</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno nodded. It was the only way.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Phil sighed, and placed the book back on the table, before starting to walk out. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>"We should go check on Tommy," he mused. "Make sure he's got everything he needs."</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>They filed out of the room, Techno closing the door behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The copy of The Art Of War sat on the table, the unsettled dust particles moving around it providing the only evidence it had ever been touched.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For the next few hours, the two of them moved quietly around the house, taking inventory of all of Techno’s supplies. Soon, the night washed out, and the sun started to rise once more. Techno and Phil, both passed out on the lounge’s (surprisingly comfortable) couch and chair, were awoken by a loud crash coming from the guest room. Staring at each other drowsily, they started to settle back into sleep, before they both abruptly realized what that meant. Jumping out of their spots, they hurried to the end of Techno’s hallway, sliding to a stop in front of the door.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy had finally woken up.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <b>Tommy’s POV:</b>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A comforting wave washed over Tommy’s eyes, like he was lying on a warm beach. He rolled into the soft bed, curling into his side.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Wait...soft?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Through all his time stuck underneath Techno’s house, the bed had never once been soft.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>A flood of light suddenly hit his vision, near blinding him. He scrambled to get out, foot quickly getting tangled. Tommy dug his nails into the wooden floor, desperate to leave this place.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Had he fallen asleep upstairs?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Or- had Technoblade finally found him-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why would he be in a bed if Technoblade had found him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>...OH GOD, WAS HE DEA-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Finally getting his foot free and his vision back, he started running for the door. As he finally hit the doorframe, something swung around the corner, stopping Tommy in his tracks. Lithe muscular arms wrapped around him, and a soft voice crooned out.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhhh, Tommy, you’re okay.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tears started to come to his eyes, and his words were choked, his throat too congested to speak clearly.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“No-no I need to get out-”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Tommy, it’s me. It’s Phil. Techno and I are right here. You’re safe.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The young boy froze, the name bringing in memories. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Of how Techno had carried him out of the cave, speaking in a tone Tommy only remembered from when he was injured during his childhood.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Of how Phil had carefully patched him up, apologizing every time the antiseptic stung a little too much.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Of how he held him now, blocking out the harsh light of the rising sun with his wings, Techno’s crown and stray pink locks barely visible over the top.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>And he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“P-Phil?” he mumbled, sliding a tiny bit further into his father’s grasp. “Are you really here?”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, yeah mate I’m here. Techno and I are here, and we aren’t going anytime soon.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Techno moved closer to his family, placing a hand on Phil’s shoulder and looking Tommy in the eye.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>“As long as you’re with us Theseus, you’re safe. You have my word.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Tommy sensed the honesty in Techno’s words. A feeling of unconditional love and protection filled the room, suffocating Tommy in the most comforting way. </span>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>For the first time in months, he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>He was home.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yeah, this one was hard to write</p><p>(Listen, I love Philza, don't get me wrong, but smp!Philza has done some messed up shit and he doesn't get to just let that lie, no matter how much I want to skip it and go straight to the mindless fluff)</p><p>Also!! As y'all know from the last chapter, I'm going to try and incorporate a side-plot with Quackity that goes on at the same time. This does mean that I'll be extending the release time by a few days or so, but you will be getting more well-edited chapters with more plot. </p><p>(After all, have y'all noticed there's been a certain L'manbergian missing from the few canon scenes within this fic?)</p><p>Seriously though, this is a big big thank you for all the comments and kudos this fic has been receiving! Y'all wouldn't believe how much they make my day. If you have the time, please leave a comment and kudos, as they greatly boost my morale and improve my motivation by a milestone.</p><p>Until next time, I'll see y'all later!</p><p>-Quills (Alexandria)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. you've always had us (but I've never had you)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Safe to say, Tommy was still fairly confused with everything that had happened so far. He opened his mouth, trying to utter out a sentence, but his throat was too dry. Phil, noticing his struggle, pulled his son to stand straight and lead him out of the bedroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Shhhhh son, we can talk later,” he hummed, rubbing small circles into his arm. Tommy could feel the gentle touch through Wilbur's...his coat. “We’ll have breakfast first, and get you some new clean clothes, and then we can have a proper conversation.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Walking into a surprisingly quaint kitchen, Tommy was met with a completely unbelievable sight- Techno, rustling through the cupboards and pulling plates and pans out- wearing an </span>
  <em>
    <span>apron?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy stared in disbelief, his gaze staying on the piglin hybrid long enough for him to notice, returning the stare.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...What does your apron say?" Tommy questioned, still leaning on Philza. Techno replied, voice completely monotone.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Try and kiss the cook- you'll end up dead." he muttered, turning back to the cupboards to find some cups. "Phil got it for me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The aforementioned laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It was on sale- how could I not?" He chuckled, clearly starting to relax. Tommy watched, completely and utterly confused.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Well, either I'm dead or this is an alternate universe, and I'm not sure which one would be better." Tommy muttered, leaning down from Phil's firm grasp into a surprisingly comfy wooden chair. Both Techno and Phil stiffened at the first part of his sentence, but they quickly covered it up with a warm smile and an eye roll. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Stop being a drama queen Tommy." </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oi, who are you calling a drama queen?!" </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Now both of you calm dow-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No no, he infringed upon my honor!" Tommy yelled playfully, moving to get up. "I need my-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His sentence tapered off as Techno placed a plate of steaming buttered potatoes in front of him, complete with a glass of water.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When was the last time he'd eaten something other than stolen gapples?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Reaching for his fork, he hesitated, looking at Phil. The man, though slightly worried at the fact his son had to ask for permission before eating, immediately nodded. Prodding the potatoes with his fork, he lifted one into his mouth. The flavor exploded, texture immaculate, and he started shoveling them down his throat. Phil’s expression went from concerned that his son had to ask to eat, to happy at the sight of him digging in… and then back to concerned at how fast he was going through all of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Tommy?” he questioned, nervously chuckling as he sat down next to him. “Would you mind slowing down?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Tommy stopped mid-eating, a crestfallen look appearing on his face, Phil quickly moved to rectify his mistakes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Wait, no- You can keep eating, I just don’t want you to choke, mate.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The boy nodded slowly, starting to eat at a more appropriate speed. Relief enveloped Phil’s insides. Techno came back from around the kitchen bench, sitting at the table and sliding Phil a bowl. There, they silently ate the food, energy cautious yet happy. They were all calm. Everything was calm.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>For now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After they’d finished and Techno had taken the dishes away (“Man, you really finished that off, huh?” “...yeah, what’s it to you?” “...Nothing. Nothing at all.”), Phil went to pick up Tommy once more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“C’mon son, let’s go get you washed up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy nodded, moving to stand. He swayed a bit before nearly falling over, Phil sliding an arm under his. Slowly, carefully, he led him out of the room and down the hallway to a small ensuite bathroom (“Seriously,” Tommy muttered, inspecting the spacious shower. “How did Techno do all of this?”).</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’ll be ok to figure this out, right bud?” Phil questioned, hovering near the door. Tommy turned to him from his place leaning on the wall, giving his dad a hesitant smile. Phil looked delighted, before toning down his grin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, well I’ll still come check on you later. There’s a change of clothes in Techno’s- your room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He closed the door behind him, before shuffling away. Tommy immediately ran to lock the door, collapsing next to the skirting board. He looked back at the shower, suddenly finding it much more intimidating from his place on the ground. He sighed, grabbing the doorknob and pulling himself up. If anything, being able to wash before Phil and Techno inevitably snapped at him would be nice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The room filled with steam from the hot water, helping Tommy sigh. He stayed under the faucet for a long time, just letting the water flow onto him. Due to the splinting tape, he couldn’t clean his wings off as well as he would’ve liked, but at least the exposed parts were somewhat similar to how they’d been before his exile. As he got out, he looked back, cringing at the amount of blood and dirt still on the floor of the shower. Still, he continued out of the bathroom, inspecting the hall for a quick moment before limping over to the guest room. Sitting in the center of the bed was one of Techno’s cream button-ups, along with a pair of black slacks and a fluffy light blue cloak and gloves. He slipped them all on, appreciating how soft the shirt was, before finding a note underneath everything. The handwriting was neat yet tidy, but the words made Tommy extremely confused. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Under the bed.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pushed himself off of the duvet, lowering himself to reach underneath. He felt around for a little while, before finally finding something to pull out. It was two wooden poles, with… something attached to the top?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re crutches.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind added helpfully. He huffed, about to talk back until he realized how insane he would sound.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Still, the crutches would definitely help. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steadied himself on them, wincing as the scratches on his hands started to burn, before hopping towards the door. He heard a quiet hum coming from the lounge area where Phil had patched him up the night before. Taking a moment to adjust to the new weight spread, he started heading towards the noise.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Leaning onto the wall near the doorframe, he could hear snippets of Techno and Phil’s conversation.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How are we supposed to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He was so light-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s all Dream’s fault-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A choked gasp lifted into his throat at the sound of his <strike>friend's? torturer's?</strike> of </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> name, and the people in the lounge went silent. Phil was the one to break the silence.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tommy? Are you there?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He turned the corner, looking like a guilty child. Phil stood to help him into one of the armchairs, but Tommy lifted a hand, stumbling over on the crutches. Techno’s gaze was his usual monotone, but after years of knowing him Tommy could see the slight glint of pride behind his eyes, combined with worry. Phil went back to his chair, leaning back and placing his hands on his knees. The fire roared next to them. His father went to open his mouth, clearly about to try and start up the conversation, but Techno cut in first.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What the fuck happened to you Tommy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Well. Tommy wished he could say that was unexpected.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil looked at him in half-anger and half-annoyance, before sighing and turning back to his youngest son.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well that isn’t how I’d put it, it gets the point across. What happened to you mate?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The older avian reached across to put a hand on his son’s leg, trying to be reassuring, but he just shied away. Phil’s smile faltered, but he quickly retracted his arm, instead settling it on the arm of the chair. Tommy’s happy look had faded from earlier, leaving behind a vacant stare. He sighed, putting his crutch on the floor and opening his mouth to speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Before I start, I need you to promise me something.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This sentence, the look on Tommy’s face-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It scared Techno. Nevertheless, he nodded, eager to hear his brother’s story. Tommy sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“After I’m finished… please don’t hurt me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A shocked look came over Phil and Techno’s face, and Tommy took that as an opportunity to continue, words spilling out of his mouth like a waterfall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I just- I need you to promise it- I can’t die, not yet, I need to-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He buried his head into his arms, clearly about to start breaking down, but Phil quickly agreed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey. hey mate,” Phil started, getting down on one knee in front of him. “It was never an option mate, I swear. Just like Techno said earlier- as long as we’re here, you’ll be safe. We’ll give you safety for as long as you need it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy stayed buried away for what felt like forever, before lifting his head to look directly into Phil’s eyes. A shiver went down Phil’s spine, and he fought to keep himself from gulping nervously. All at once, Tommy’s aura had changed, going from the scared boy hiding himself away to a cold burning frostbite, chilling the room despite the raging fireplace.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then where were you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-what?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil chuckled for what seemed like the third time that day, trying to hide his uncomfortable-ness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where were you when I needed safety?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy rose to his feet, pulling the crutch up with him. He stood over Phil, the shadow of the flame illuminating his angered face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where were you when I was fighting a war with my oldest brother, your oldest son?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where were you when I was stuck in a ravine, kicked out from the country I built?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Where were you when I was exiled from that country by my be-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He faltered, his hand nearly slipping off the crutch, before he found his anger again and grasped it tighter.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“By my former friend, for destroying the property of an enemy?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>By now, Phil had shuffled back into the foot of the chair, Techno standing and reaching across to pull him up. The display of care  just seemed to anger Tommy more.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where were you when I was stuck in a shitty tent, being forced to give my items and my sanity  up to a madman? Where were you then, Phil?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had started to laugh, a crazed shriek coming from the boy’s mouth. Phil reached out, slightly worried, but the boy flinched back. His fury was palpable, suffocating everyone around him in a way much too similar to his father’s.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where were you when he destroyed my tent? Or-or when he blew up my new home?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His tone had been reduced to a whisper, but it held the same ire.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where were you when he broke my wings? When I thought death was the only option of escape?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil and Techno had gone long past trying to speak, only listening. Even the winds had stopped in their howling, the whole terrain silencing itself in an attempt to give the boy his moment to speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have seen empires rise and fall, and I fell with them. I’ve seen wars and betrayals and death, and you were only ever there for Techno.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The wings he’d once held tall and proud folded in further, physical pain the furthest thing from his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“WAS I NOT WORTH IT? WAS I NOT GOOD ENOUGH?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>“HOW DID I FAIL HARD ENOUGH TO LOSE YOUR LOVE?!”</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Tommy went to run out of the room, before hitting his own foot and slamming into the floor. Phil immediately went to help him, collapsing next to the already injured boy. This time, Tommy didn’t protest, clearly too tired to object.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno didn’t know if that made it hurt more or less.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Phil held his son as if he was a precious doll, both wanting to protect him from everything in the world and lamenting all the things that he couldn’t- </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> saved him from.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God, how much of his son’s life had he missed out on? </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Son, son, my son,” he whispered, taking extra effort to not dig his nails in. “I’m so, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I-I-” he stuttered, tucking his son further into his arms as if that could defend him from his trauma. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>sorry- God, if I could go back I would, I’d change it all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno watched from far away, not wanting to disturb the bubble of grief surrounding the two living members of his family. He watched closely for any change in Tommy’s expression, but the blank stare on his face stayed exactly the same. As he listened to Phil choke out apologies, his mouth slowly opened, before moving to shape out words. They were weary, but there was a slight undertone of...humor?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“W-would you?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Techno froze, not expecting that.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Because I’ll let you in on a little secret Phil- I wouldn’t. Sure, maybe I could’ve been a little nicer, or a little stronger, but would it really have mattered in the end? Everything that’s happened to me was what I deserved, and it all happened because I was being plain-old Tommy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He let out a dry chuckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So don’t feel bad. I was just being me.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Another breath was taken, and then Tommy started the tedious process of grabbing his clutch and slowly pulling himself up. As he finally got up properly, leaning on the one crutch, the other one was thrust in front of his face. He hesitantly took it, not looking his brother in the eye, and started making his way towards the door. His back turned, wings bright against the dark wood of Techno’s house, he muttered a single sentence and then walked back towards the guest room. Phil and Techno weren’t meant to hear it, but if Tommy had stayed he would’ve seen how it tore them apart.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And no one could ever love me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A whispering memory climbed around his head, fuelling his self-hatred. He took a rest against the wall of the hallway, rubbing his cheek and trying to get rid of the phantom-feeling of a hand pulling his chin up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No one could ever love you Tommy, that’s a fact.” the green man spoke, his mask clear in the light of the campfire. “Who would care about you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Tommy from his memory, set early enough into his exile that he was still fighting back, wrenched his face out of Dream’s hands. He scowled, ready to start an argument, but Dream interrupted him before he could speak.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Definitely not Tubbo, that’s for sure,” he said, circling Tommy’s tnret. “Actually, we can pretty much scratch everyone from L’manberg.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh that’s a lie Dream, everyone back home loves me-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Then why aren’t they here?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tommy faltered, the cocky attitude leaving him for a second. That was all Dream needed. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because they don’t care about you. They came to gawk for a few minutes, and then they left. Face it Tommy- I’m all you have left.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He snapped out of the memory, shaking against the wall again. The message rang clear in his mind.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After all, if Dream’s gone, then I have no one left.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No one left at all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>°•○●○•°</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Back in the lounge, Phil was still kneeling on the floor, tears dripping onto the carpet. Techno had tried to coax him into a chair, recognizing how painful the posture must be, but Phil just pulled himself away. All of the examples of how he’d failed his son were screaming in his ears, and it didn’t look like they’d be letting up anytime soon. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You left him behind with Wilbur, and then you killed Wilbur! How could you?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Who did he have left?</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>No, but Tubbo was still there-</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tubbo exiled him!</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Phil? Are you there?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>Hearing Techno speak knocked Phil out of his state, and he tried desperately to respond. His voice was hoarse and quiet, but his words spoke volumes nonetheless.</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Techno-we-we have to help him, we have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The piglin hybrid lay a hand on Phil’s shoulder, and the older man turned his head to look into the other’s eyes. His brown eyes were wide and wet, and in that current situation Techno felt as if he was the father consoling his son. He said only two words, but truth radiated from them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And so it was set in stone. Phil went lax in Techno’s arms, sobbing quietly. Techno said nothing, staring out the door his brother had gone out. In his head, he planned.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Once his father was okay, he’d go to his brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d make an active effort to fix their bond.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d help him to open up and heal, hopefully helping build their family bond.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And then he’d find everything in the world that had hurt his bubba and </span>
  <em>
    <span>tear them apart.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>me, walking through the door with starbucks and sunglasses: "I look pretty good for a dead bitch."</p><p>all of y'all: "She's alive!"</p><p>Seriously though, it has been a while! I've been fully hit with a workload from school and on top of that, I had a major bout of writer's block during all of the time I had scheduled away for fic writing. This means that this chapter's a little shorter with less editing. For this, I sincerely apologize.</p><p>(Also, everyone who figures out the line that's been used in an actual modded video by one of the members of the Dream SMP gets a cookie)</p><p>Unfortunately, I also have to make another apology- though I will try my hardest to not take this long of a time in-between chapters, there will be a bit more delay until the next one, just so I can plan it out properly. Rest assured, this story will definitely be completed, and hey- On the bright side, I'll try and release some of my one-shots in the mean time!</p><p>For now, please enjoy this chapter.</p><p>Until next time, I'll see y'all later!</p><p>-Quills (Alexandria)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me, staring at all the unfinished Haikyuu fics in my drafts: "Now these, these are great."</p><p>Also me, staring at a blank doc with the words "Tommy gets help and also wings." written on it: "But this? This is wonderful."</p><p>Seriously though, this idea sat in my mind for a long time before I decided to write it, and even then I was a little iffy considering how close it was to writing RPF, but with a little reassurance from my friends I decided to post it! This one will definitely be finished as I have all the chapters written out, I just need to edit them.</p><p>(The title is also a work-in-progress, so it's subject to change.)</p><p>(Fair warning: I am not the most knowledgeable person when it comes to the SMP, so please excuse the plotholes)</p><p>If you have the time, please leave a comment and a kudos! They really make my day.</p><p>Until next time, see y'all later!</p><p>-Quills (Alexandria)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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